Grim up North
by thearrowsoflegolas
Summary: EVENTUAL Sherlock/OC pairing, but it will be a relatively slow building relationship. When Alex moves to London from the North of England to look for accommodation, she finds herself looking at a certain 221B Baker Street as a possible residence. Everything seems perfect. The only problem is the pretentious arsehole she is required to share it with.


OK I usually write Tolkein so this is a bit new for me :) please r & r constructive criticism is always appreciated :) x

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I took a deep breath and walked up to the door. It was always scary meeting your new landlady for the first time, but I had been assured that Mrs. Hudson was really a very lovely lady. I had also been informed that she was quite quiet, due to the fact that her husband had apparently died some time ago, and she was basically on her own. Glancing up at the shining gold letters on the black door, 221B, I gave myself a shake, grasped the knocker tigtly, and rapped three times.

The echo of the impact resonated around the inside of the house, and I was greeted by a flustering of bangs, muffled swearing and jangling keys, before the door was finally opened and I stood face to face with my new landlady. Well, I say face to face. The woman was so small her head only came up to my shoulder.

"You must be Alex," she smiled warmly, "Come in, love, come in. I've been expecting you."

She whirled around, a mass of fluffy hair, purple cashmere and chunky jewellery.

I stepped into the corridor, letting my eyes become accustomed to the darkness, and looked around me. Sure, it was small, tiny, in fact, but with no current form of employment and a truckload of student loans to pay off, I couldn't afford to be picky. The corridor itself was quite nice. The monochrome wallpaper cast pleasant reflections from the waning sunlight, and the creaky wooden staircase led upstairs to an unseen floor.

"Oh, aren't you lovely and tall!" Mrs. Hudson cooed as she craned her neck to look up at me, "A lovely young lady."

"Oh, uh, thank you..." I replied awkwardly, attempting and failing to mask my strong Northern accent. I had hoped that living down in London would eventually cause me to change my elocution, but for now it looked like I was stuck with my diction. A girl can always dream...

I didn't realise that Mrs. Hudson was still talking...

"And it's nice to see a girl with some shape to her nowadays, not like those stick thin models in magazines. Let me tell you, my friend Lindsay had a daughter, Carol, I think her name was, and she went totally off the rails when she was a teen. Lindsay blames those magazines..."

I zoned out and listened to the gentle hum of Mrs. Hudson's voice as she led me upstairs. My mind wandered to what she had said. I could definitely not be described as 'skinny' or 'dainty'. At 5"10, I was more clunky than graceful, more giraffe than butterfly. I wasn't fat, by any means, but I was fit. I went swimming most nights, so that had built up a pretty strong physique. I had broad shoulders and hips, and an hourglass waist. That meant that I looked good in swimsuits, but it was damned hard to try and find any clothes that could fit me. Having a 24" waist and a 38" arse didn't make shopping for jeans a pleasant experience...

I pushed a dark curl out of my eyes and stepped forwards into the room Mrs. Hudson was beckoning me into. The lady was STILL talking. Good God, she could go on, couldn't she...

"Anyway, Lindsay put her foot down and said that's that, and sent her to boarding school. Last I heard, she was half way thgrough a degree in Fine Art!"

She glanced at me, as if she expected a reaction, so I raised my eyebrows in admiration and made a sort of choked 'wow' sound.

She seemed to appreciate that, and with a smile, turned to show me the room.

It was rather large, with a great brown sopfa on one wall and an old wooden fireplace on the other. The walls were covere din more monochromatic wallpaper and Union Flag cushions littered the chairs scattered around the room. She was a patriot. Nice. By the large window lookingout into London city was a large desk. Perfect for writing up my job applications...

I had recently completed my Maths and engineering degrees, and qas currently searching for a job that would eneble me to use my skills. Next to the door opened an alcove into a roomy kitchen, with a large table in the middle and a two-storey fridge onteh other side. There were also other doors, which I assumed led to bedrooms.

"Wow," I breathed, thrilled with such a find, "This is perfect! Incredible! Oh my God thank you! How much is it going for?"

Mrs. Hudson sighed, "Currently £507 a week."

My heart dropped. I could never afford that.

"But I've been talking with an old friend, and he's interested as well," she broke in, "so there's a possibility you could share the charge."

I looked up happily.

"Can I meet him?"

The doorbell rang, sending the sound echoing through the empty house.

"That'll be him now, love. Always bang on time..." she smiled to herself, "Help yourself to tea, sweetie, there's some in the cup. You get yourself comfortable, I'll bring him up."

I smiled at her and took a seat on a comfy-looking leather armchair.

"Thanks," I said, "I really appreciate this." She smiled at me again and began to walk down the stairs.

"Mind yourself though," her voice echoed around the house, followed by a conspiratorial chuckle, "He's a bit of an acquired taste..."

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Please review xx :)


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